


there's a story behind the story

by orphan_account



Series: tomorrow they'll see what we are [6]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: (unsuccessful attempt), Card Games, Curiosity, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other Characters (Brief Appearances/Mentions)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:57:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Katherine Pulitzer will always search for answers, even if the ones she gets aren't what she wanted to hear.





	there's a story behind the story

Katherine is, after everything that's happened, still a reporter.

Her job only builds on the things she knows about herself ( _she's nosy, and curious, and unafraid to assert herself to get a good story, and staunchly stubborn about asking questions and questions until she starts getting answers_ ), and it's something she's unashamed of. If anything, Katherine is proud of her profession, and the work she's put in to get to where she is now. Women in the news — well, behind the news, writing and editing and making it happen — are rare like pearls, and for her to have made it out of the entertainment section and into hard news? She's nothing but proud of that, no matter how it might make people look at her funny.

Besides, the people who matter don't care. Her father has reluctantly accepted her career ( _and even acknowledged that she's good at it, more than she could have hoped for_ ), Darcy and Bill are right there to support her, and the newsies— they hawk her articles as loud as the rest of them, tossing in comments and compliments about the writer whenever they do with their thick accents and bright smiles. Everyone else?

Well, they can go take a long walk off a short pier.

But what being a reporter ( _by occupation, by calling, by her very temperament and design_ ) means is that Katherine Pulitzer will not give up on a story until she gets the answers she's seeking. Be it a story for the paper or the story of what her friends were really doing last Saturday evening when they said they were going to the theatre ( _she was at the theatre to interview one of the writers, and definitely would have spotted Bill and Darcy if they'd been there_ ), she doesn't give up until she gets what she seeks. It's driven a lot of people away over the years, since being stubborn and nosy is unappealing in a woman, but she doesn't care if it means she knows. She has to know.

And right now, she has to know why Jack Kelly sometimes looks like his mind is miles away, even though for all she can tell he's happy now.

Granted, that sometimes has gotten less and less common in the months since Davey's impromptu party ( _she still hasn't figured out where he got the idea for that, either, but priorities are priorities and for all she knows, they may be related_ ), but she remembers the first few days after the strike was settled. He could barely look her in the eye, and never seemed to be alone ( _Crutchie, or Race, or Specs, one of them was always at Jack's side, and at first she was just a little miffed but now—_ ), and sometimes he looked like he froze up like one of those fancy porcelain dolls her mother gave her as a child. Katherine never really liked those dolls — their hair was nice and pretty, but their dresses were always so large and difficult, and her parents seemed to think the only thing they were good for was tea parties. 

But anyways. The point is, something was and is up with Jack, and she's going to find out why. 

Unfortunately, subtlety has never been among Katherine's numerous traits, and she doubts most of the newsies would take well to it anyways, so she simply asks outright one day. She's been pulled in to an evening game of cards at the Lodging House, thanks to Specs and Race ( _those two seem determined to make her a permanent part of their little family, and she's not quite inclined to argue_ ), and as Albert bemoans his third lost hand in a row, she blurts, "So, what is up with Jack?"

"Uh, I think he's out at Miss Medda's?" Romeo, perched on one of the nearby beds with a penny in one hand (Smalls, beside him, is teaching him how to make it dance across his knuckles like magic), shrugs innocently. "Crutchie wants to learn how'ta paint, an' then Les pipes up too, an' Spot's guy Blink, so now he gots this sorta class goin'."

Well, that's an interesting answer, but not the one she's looking for. "That's very fascinating, but I was more curious about where he goes when his mind's not here. I'm sure you've noticed, right? I just can't seem to figure out—" She's interrupted by Race throwing his cards down and standing, grin vanished and replaced by a thin grimace. "—Race? Did I say something?"

He blinks a few times, like his mind hasn't quite caught up to what his body's doing, and seems to take a few moments to figure out an answer ( _unusual for the guy who's able to snap out wit and quips easily as breathing_ ). "Look, we'se playin' cards, don't go bringin' that up now. Ain't cards-playin' conversation."

"Why not?" The gathered newsies are all looking at her apprehensively, so it's clear they all know what's being talked about, and that frustrates her. "Is it something you can't tell me because I'm not— not one of you? Or something? I'm not asking for an article or anything."

Albert makes a face at the hand he's been dealt, and snorts. "You'se sitting on Jack's bed, playin' poor man's poker with a buncha scraps — you'se one of us, alright. Just ain't pleasant talk to have."

"Yeah, but if she's one of you, why don't she know?" From the floor between her and Race, Spot leans back on one arm and raises an eyebrow. "Ain't like it's some secret, an' shouldn't she have to deal with Kelly's mess too? Sure as hell dragged me and my boys into it, and we's not even friends—"

A laugh from Specs cuts him off. "Conlon, half our boys is having sleepovers in each other's boroughs, Mush is gettin' cooking lessons from Davey's mum, and Blink's at Medda's with Jack — not to mention you'se here playin' with us. Like it or not, I'd say we's friends now." Turning to Katherine ( _who is trying very hard not to reach for her notebook, because this is a lot of new information_ ), he shrugs apologetically. "Race's right, it ain't nice talk for playin' cards. We's can tell you about it later, though— like Brooklyn says, you'se part of this, you deserve to know."

She would really like to know now, rather than later, but later is better than never and it seems like a great sign of trust that they're willing to tell her ( _this is sounding like a bigger issue than she assumed_ ), so Katherine stops asking questions and instead puts her energy into trying to stop Race from winning every. Single. Round. ( _That boy seems to have a second sense for cards, or at least a deft hand and a sharp eye for patterns — Katherine thinks he would be a brilliant entertainer, or perhaps a bartender, but he seems to like where he is now so that's completely inconsequential_ ).

Despite everyone's combined efforts ( _and while she and Albert aren't particularly good, Specs and Spot are alright, and Smalls and Romeo actually win a few rounds each_ ), Race still comes out a clear victor when they finally concede defeat, one by one. He stores his winnings ( _knick-knacks and scraps, since none of them were really stupid enough to bet actual money against him_ ) and the deck of cards back under his bed, casually dodging the playful kicks Romeo sends at his head, and shoos everyone but Specs and Katherine out to their own rooms ( _or their own boroughs_ ).

There's some audible chatter from the front door, and after a few minutes Crutchie appears in the doorway. "Hey, fellas— hi, Kath. Jack's walkin' Les home, so he'll be back later. Race, you wanna—"

"Nah, I'll do it." Specs unfolds himself from the floor and stretches slowly. "I'm walkin' Katherine back anyways, I can find Jack easy enough too. If he's headin' to Davey's, we's probably oughta leave now— Kath, how's about you go grab your coat, make sure there ain't no more surprises in the pockets?" It's accompanied by a significant look that says he wants to talk to Crutchie ( _who looks tired, but not too beleaguered otherwise_ ) and Race ( _who looks somewhat more worn out, but still glowing from his umpteenth poker win_ ) alone, so she nods and bids them a good night before carefully making her way downstairs to the dingy entrance hall. Her coat is untouched ( _as opposed to the first few times she visited the Lodging House, when some of the younger newsies liked to play dress-up with it and may have left some rather odd things inside_ ), so she pulls it on and buttons it up while waiting by the door.

After a few minutes, footsteps on the stairs herald Specs's reappearance, and he pushes open the door with a grin. Outside, the night air is chilly and quiet, and a few fireflies are drifting through the streets like tiny stars. Katherine wishes she could capture the image in a photo, but there's no way they could even manage a decent photo of the buildings themselves at this hour. They walk quietly for a bit, this routine now something almost like familiar, before she remembers their earlier conversation. "So, are you going to tell me about Jack now? That's what you were talking to Race and Crutchie about, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was." She can't see very well, but it looks like Specs makes a thoughtful face. "I'se not really the best to talk about it, but I can give it a go. See, Jack's... he ain't a big fan of bein' trapped, right? Why he's always talkin' about goin' somewhere bigger— these streets, they feels too small to him. Makes him think—"

"That he's back in the Refuge? But, how long has it been since—"

Specs shakes his head. "Not long enough. Look, I'se been around longer than Jack, so I remembers the first time he got out. Kid's been in and outta that place five, six times at least. Escaped a couple'a times, but we's had to bust him out one or two. He took falls for us, went in for Romeo once or twice, got 'imself arrested bustin' Race out too—"

"Race was in the Refuge?" Katherine's a reporter, she really should be used to surprising news, but somehow everything she learns from these boys feels as startling as ever. After years of what she's starting to realize was a very sheltered life, she suspects she will always be surprised to learn about what those less fortunate than her have had to endure. "I didn't realize—"

"He don't talk about it much." They duck into an alley ( _one of Katherine's favorite parts of walking the city with the newsies — they take much more interesting routes to reach their destinations_ ), and Specs lowers his voice a bit. "See, Race an' Jack got in a fight, somethin' whereabouts of Race always puttin' himself in dangerous places with his betting. He runs out to Brooklyn, and since this is before Jack an' Spot's are actually on talkin' terms, we don't realize he ain't there until one of them Brooklyn boys comes by to ask where he's gone. Kid was in there for almost a month, wasn't quite the same when we gots him out." He sighs quietly, and for once Katherine has nothing to say. "But you'se was curious about Jack. Look, I'se not sure how to explain it, but— you knows how he talks about that Santa Fe, yeah?"

Katherine nods, though she hasn't actually heard him mention Santa Fe much recently ( _at least, not nearly as much as those first weeks of knowing him_ ). She kinda gets what Specs is saying — Jack needs an escape, especially after what he's been through, so it makes some sense for him to have a place for his mind to escape to.

They exit the alley and Specs continues. "Thing is, that Santa Fe— he ain't talkin' about no place out theres." He sweeps his arm out towards the city and, presumably, the world beyond it, before raising one finger to point it at the sky. "Jack's Santa Fe's up there, out where none of us can reach him. We wasn't noticing it when that talk started, after we gots him out after bustin' Race from the Refuge — just thought it was something one of them Refuge boys told him about. Don't think he even knew it."

"And then?" They're almost at her house, and Katherine's not sure she wants to hear this anymore ( _it's not what she expected, and not something she wants to think about anymore at all_ ), but she has to know.

There's a quiet pause. They arrive at her doorstep, where there's still a light on inside ( _the janitor always waits up for her, he's an absolute blessing and she needs to remember when his birthday is because she's sure it's quite soon_ ), and he finally sighs. "Then he comes home right drunk, and Crutchie almost busts his other leg stoppin' Jack from tossin' himself off the roof." He pats her on the shoulder ( _Katherine's an only child, but hanging out with Specs makes her almost feel like she has a brother_ ) and smiles, teeth bright against his dark skin in the glow of her windows. "You'se gonna be by Jacobi's tomorrow, yeah? Elmer sure does like hearin' you talk about them articles of yours." 

"I—" It takes a few moments for her voice to work, because this is a little more information than she bargained for and she's trying to process it all. "— Yes, I mean, of course I will. For sure. Just, is—"

Specs laughs quietly. "Jack's gonna be okay, don't you worries about it. He's been better'n ever recently, I'se thinking you an' Davey and Les've been good for him. And we'se lookin' out for him, just as ever." 

Well, she supposes that's that, then. ( _Being a reporter sometimes means learning things you don't like, because all information is valuable and useful for the story even if it's unpleasant or painful to hear_ ). It's good to know, for certain, some of what's formed these boys ( _her boys, really_ ) into who they are now. The family they are now. Perhaps next time, she can ask for a happier story — she's sure they have some, sees it in every joke and smile the newsies share with each other. Perhaps, in years to come, she'll be able to contribute to more happy stories herself. "I'm glad. Thank you for walking me home, Specs. Tell Jack I said hi?"

"Of course. 'Night, Kath."

"Goodnight."

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! This is most likely the last installment in this short series, although if anyone wants further one-shots or fics about stuff referenced in these stories, please let me know! 
> 
> For the record, Race having been to the Refuge before is an idea I picked up from this tumblr post (http://bentylershook.tumblr.com/post/164011558583/tired-alexander-tiredjay), although since I only remembered the base idea I didn't really follow the ideas the post laid out (though they're really nice!) And Katherine and Specs being good friends was also thanks to tumblr. (For the record, I'm picturing Specs as played by Jordan Samuels, bc here's to ethnic/racial diversity and also I rly like the 2017 movie cast)
> 
> as always, comments would be much appreciated! 
> 
> And honestly, ideas are not my strong suit, so if anyone has requests for newsies fics, please contact me here or on tumblr! :) (I'm open to canon era and modern era, tho there are some characters or pairings that i'll have trouble writing <_<)
> 
> thanks for reading these! <3


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